


Shall I Stay? Would it be a Sin?

by HMS_Chill



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Fluff, I did my best, M/M, like I can't make this softer than the book BUT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26436115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMS_Chill/pseuds/HMS_Chill
Summary: Henry wakes up in Paris, in the middle of the first night he's spent with Alex, and realizes he should go.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 33
Kudos: 139





	Shall I Stay? Would it be a Sin?

Henry's not sure what wakes him up, but for a few glorious moments, everything feels perfect. The bed is soft and warm around him, and gentle music drifts up from a busker on the street below. It's warm for March, so they'd left a window open for some fresh air, and a soft breeze is playing with the gauzy curtains. And best of all, when he turns his head a bit, he can see Alex Claremont-Diaz's arm draped across him. Henry rolls over a bit, slowly, trying his hardest to preserve this moment for as long as he can. If he wakes Alex, or if he wakes himself up too much, the spell will be broken, but he can't help risking it. He wants to see Alex.

When he sees Alex's face, blissed out and relaxed in sleep, he feels something lodge itself in his throat. He knows, suddenly and with crystal clarity, that this is a terrible mistake. He can't have this; he knows that. Ever since they first met at the Olympics, he's known that even just a friendship with Alex would be a bad idea. Something like this, whatever they have now, has to be catastrophically worse. But still. It can't hurt too much, just this once. That's what he tells himself, at least, as he reaches out a hand to gently brush a hair out of Alex's face. Just this once, here, away from the reporters and the cameras and everything else, lying next to Alex can't be too bad. Even if it cuts him down to his very core to be this close to a life he can never have, well, at least he can feel the warmth before he melts the wax on his wings. 

Henry doesn't often let himself think about the future. For as long as he's been able to think about it realistically, it's looked bleak, and he hasn't exactly wanted to dwell on a lifetime of loneliness. But looking at Alex now, face smushed against a pillow, he lets himself imagine a future like this. He knows it's impossible, and probably stupid to dream about, but it's the middle of the night, and they're in Paris, so he lets his mind wander. He dreams of nights spent like this, with Alex content and asleep beside him. He dreams of quiet moments when he can just look at Alex, with no reporters to take pictures or prying strangers to ask questions. He dreams of a life where he can just _be_ with Alex, no armor or closet or anything else to hide them. In the wee hours of a Parisian morning, he lets himself dream about it, and he wants it so badly it hurts.

He knows he shouldn't think like this, knows he can't have any of it. Not with anyone, but certainly not with Alex. He shouldn't even be here now; every second he's in this hotel is a greater chance they'll be discovered. He's risking a scandal every moment he spends with Alex's arm around him, Alex's breath on his neck and Alex's legs tangled with his. He knows what he's risking, knows he should go, and yet. He looks at Alex, snoring lightly against the pillow, and he knows in a heartbeat that if his was the only fate at risk, he would stay here forever. He would be happily disowned and discredited, would dance as the tabloids dragged him through the muck if it meant one more breath like this.

But it's in that breath that he thinks about how many other lives he's risking. There's Bea; she'll defend him and get wrapped up in anything she isn't already dragged into. There are the lives of other queer folks, who will see everything that happens to him if he's discovered like this. And on Alex's side, there's his whole family, and Ellen Claremont's entire administration. If the first son of the United States is found in bed with the Prince of England, well. Henry doesn't want to imagine what it would do to the upcoming presidential race. He knows what the Republican Party is capable of, and he knows what they'll say if anyone finds him here with Alex. Henry was raised in this fishbowl of scrutiny; he knows how far people can twist things. With eight months to the election, this could be rewritten into whatever the Republicans need to push Ellen out of office.

It's that thought that motivates him to gently start to extract himself from Alex. He'd risk everything he has for another moment together, but this is too big. It's bigger than either of them, and maybe even bigger than the two of them put together. Still, for just a split second longer, he lets himself look at Alex. He lets himself study Alex's face, the way it relaxes in sleep, the little snores and littler smile on his lips. He's beautiful, and Henry feels that lump in his throat again. He should go, but he's never known what's good for him, always wanted just a bit more than he can have. So, slowly, trying to savor the moment as much as he can, he brushes Alex's hair aside and leans forward to kiss his forehead. One last kiss, one last moment to pretend he can have this, and then he's sliding out of bed, already looking for his pants when a hand closes around his wrist.

It's Alex's hand; he knows even before he looks at it. Still, he lets his eyes take their time traveling up the arm to find Alex's face. Alex is clearly barely awake, blinking up at him with a frown that wasn't there a moment before. He looks so confused, and so tired, that it nearly makes Henry get back into bed, risks be damned.

"Where're you going?"

"I... I thought I'd..." Every excuse dies on Henry's tongue as he looks at Alex, who makes a disapproving noise as he tugs Henry's hand closer and presses a kiss to each of his knuckles.

"Stay? You're warm, baby."

The lump in Henry's throat threatens to overwhelm him suddenly. He vaguely processes that his knees are going to give out, and the only place to sit is the bed, so he lets himself fall back into it, Sisyphus's bolder tumbling back down before he even got close to the top of the hill. Alex tugs him closer, pulling him back under the blankets before nuzzling into his neck. As much as he knows he shouldn't, knows this isn't real, Henry holds him a little closer. He kisses the place where Alex's ear meets his face, earning an appreciative hum as Alex falls asleep again. He's tucked up against Henry now, too close for Henry to leave even if he could bring himself to try.

For now, all he can do is bury his face in Alex's hair and try not to cry. There's so much hair; he's pretty sure he swallows a few strands as he breathes it in. But burying them in Alex's hair is the only thing he can think to do with the emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

It has been five years and eight months since anyone has called him 'baby'. He can't remember the last time he heard the word, though he must have heard it some time in that span, but the last time it was directed at him was just before his dad's funeral. He'd cried in the car on their way there, and his mum had taken his face in her hands and wiped his tears. She'd pulled him into a hug, and she'd called him her baby then, voice choked with tears of her own. Just like always, she'd promised him that she would be there and it would all be okay.

It wasn't. Nothing has been okay since, and his mum hasn't called him her baby, either. No one has called him 'baby' since. Bea doesn't use the term, Pez doesn't know it, and he'd made Shaan put it on a list of things that fake girlfriends weren't allowed to say to him. Alex doesn't know what it means, either; he can't. He can't know Henry's history with the word. As he lies there in the darkness, Henry tries his hardest to remind himself that from Alex's mouth, 'baby' is just another pet name. It isn't the unconditional promise of fierce love he'd grown up with.

But even from Alex, that 'baby' has to mean something. Tonight, it's a request, a vulnerability. It had asked Henry to stay, and to trust that Alex and their teams and whatever forces of the universe might be looking out for them will be enough to protect them. It asked Henry to trust whatever this thing between them is, and while it left him a choice, it's a choice between Dickens and Austen. He could leave this warm bed to traipse through Paris back to his own hotel, disheveled and miserable, or he could lean into a man who's let down his guard and trusted him to stay. As he lets himself sink back into the moment with Alex, letting himself put his fear off until the morning, he recognizes the busker's song just long enough to murmur the last lines into Alex's hair. It feels like a confession and a prayer and a declaration all rolled into one, like something monumentally bigger than the eight little words hummed into a sleeping boy's ear. He feels something inside him shift as he sings, and he knows that he's in too deep. He knows that when it gets to be too much and Alex leaves, when this all blows up in his face or comes crashing down around him, it will take a part of him with it. But he'll take whatever he can get, so for now, he leans in closer and lets himself believe he can have something like a relationship here. He sings gently, Alex's breath tickling his neck as the breeze carries the last few notes through the window, and his heart is so full he thinks it might explode.

"... I can't help falling in love with you."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here. Also, I have like... a BLOG blog, where I look at books and TV shows and music and stuff! If you liked my study guide (or the analysis of the word 'baby' here), you should [check it out here!](http://www.historyslit.com/)Thanks y'all!


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